Weird Sh*t on a Run

I’m in week 12 of Tri training, with a little over 7 weeks left before race day. Where has the time gone.

Here’s what this past week looked like:

Sunday: 1 hour BRick at the gym

Monday: 40 min Swim

Tuesday: Insane Spin class

Wednesday: 4.2 mile Run

Thursday: 30 min Swim

I think my body is finally getting used to 6 workouts per week. And my tummy is happy because now I’m eating extra rice crispy treats in the process.

Last week, I expressed some feelings of doubt about whether I will be ready for race day. I realize now that by continuing to fit in my workouts, I will be ready. But after reflecting on my doubt, I think I realized something.

I’m not a huge fan of swimming. (!!!)

Expectation

Reality.

I’m an optimist. I see the glass half-full. I go into most experiences believing that I will enjoy them, and come out the other side with more knowledge or passion for something. I believed wholeheartedly when I signed up for the tri that I would grow to love biking and swimming. I like to exercise, I like to learn new things… makes sense.

But I forgot about the human condition that we don’t like things we’re not good at. I forgot that I quit basketball in 8^th grade because I was terrible, and I stopped trying out for the school musicals because I didn’t want to be stuck in the chorus anymore. I am guilty of stopping things that I’m not good at. It’s just not fun. Who’s with me?

I don’t think that I’m a great runner, but at least I have seen myself improve and accomplish things over the past two years. I put in the hours and practiced and trained, and I like to think that I am at least a good runner. I also have seen my endurance improve in biking – I love going to spin classes and riding through Prospect Park with my shiny new bike. It’s fun.

Convincing myself that I have improved in my swimming is harder. I know my endurance has increased, but I kind of dread going to the pool on my own. I go to every group training session I can, because it's slightly less painful doing lap sprints with my fellow TNTers. When I go to the pool on my own, I get it done because I know I have to. And the consequence of not being prepared in swimming (ahem, drowning) is slightly scarier than being undertrained in biking or running. I get in the pool and say to myself “okay, let’s get this over with. And then you can treat yourself to a yummy breakfast or something.”

Am I being a negative Nancy? Perhaps. But I am also being honest with myself. If I’m going to finish the next 7 weeks of training, I have to come to terms with the fact that I’m not going to become an amazing swimmer overnight. It’s going to be hard and not that fun for me, but I’m going to stick with it, and know that by race day I accomplished something awesome.

On an upbeat note, I am really excited about my new Up band by Jawbone!

Compliments my gold watch, no?

I received it as a gift from my boss for putting on our sales meeting back in April. With high-tech motion sensors (or something), it can track how many steps you take, your workouts, and how well you sleep. Just wear it on your wrist day and night, plug it into your phone so it syncs up with an app, and get immediate feedback on your activity right away. So awesome.

I walked over 5 miles yesterday! One good thing
that comes from my commute.

I also wore it on my crazy a** run the other night. I will now elaborate.

Per my description of how I’m not the biggest fan of swimming, I am like a kid in a candy store when it’s a run day. It all started out great. The weather was warm, it was the first time I was wearing shorts this season, and I was ready for some speedwork at the track. But apparently the entire community of north Brooklyn also thought it was a nice night for the track.

I would very much like to give a seminar on proper track etiquette to my neighbors. I had to dodge slow people walking while talking on cell phones, little kids zigzagging, and one guy pushing a shopping cart. ON THE TRACK. The outside is for slow walkers, the park and the green space is for kids, and the grocery store is where you can take your shopping cart. Mkay? I am trying to complete some 400s here people.

Then on my way home, a girl sitting on her fire escape dumped some kind of liquid (I’m hoping it was water) over the edge, about 2 ft from me. I looked up with a nasty stare, and she said “Oops.” Then, as I was walking the last block back to my apartment for a cool down, I saw a guy, who was stopped and resting on his bike, start PEEING NEXT TO HIS BIKE. WTF. It’s not like I live in some downtrodden neighborhood where public urination is a common thing. It wasn’t even dark out. If you must pee in public, do it when it’s dark, next to an alley or a wall or something. And for the love of Lance Armstrong, don't do it while on your bike.

Needless to say, I got back to my apartment, wondering what was wrong with this world. But it was a great run otherwise, so I can’t really complain.

Back with a New Plan

Today’s Workout: 4 Miles, Easy

Hi friends! Did you miss me?

I realize it’s been almost a month since I posted. This is partly due to the fact that the last few weeks of the summer were crazy, and partly because I didn’t want to write on my running blog when I was injured. I’m laying it all out there for ya.

Let’s start with said crazy weeks of summer shall we? My recent life, in photos.

It was my birthday! I rang in the big 2-4 with lots of good friends and family.

And beer.

Keith and I went to Portland over Labor Day! The weather was perfect, and all the fall beer was back on the shelves.

We went to a brew fest and imbibed with the locals.

Last beach day of the summer at Crescent Beach in Portland.

Absolutely perfect day.

Keith and I ran in Portland around one of their beautiful bays,
decked out in our new Nike gear straight
from the glorious Maine outlets.

While we were in Portland, we were asked to volunteer at the
Sea Dogs game for the "lobster toss"
We lost. But be jealous.

Great summery dinner – homemade Mussels picked from Maine’s waters two days before, salad, and Rose wine. Please and thank you.

I went home this past weekend for a bridal shower, and my family’s scrumptious cat Morgan curled up with me as soon as the lights went out. We did some catching up on Project Runway together.

Do you feel like you’re all caught up? Great!

I don’t want to go into detail about my knee injury – I’d rather not put you to sleep, and it won’t help me heal any faster if I talk about it. But basically, I had to readjust my aggressive training plan I set out to do. I had lofty goals of lots of long runs and intense speedwork sessions, but with my minor setback, I had to readjust.

Confession:  I am not at all bummed about this.

I started off the marathon training program feeling pretty tired, and I often dreaded my runs. I don’t think I took enough time off between the half marathon and marathon, and I felt burned out.

Once I was injured, however, and I couldn’t use running to meditate/de-stress/listen to Harry Potter audio books, I was dying to get back on the road. There’s a lesson in all setbacks I suppose.

Once I was back to healthy, I took a page out of last year’s marathon plan, and ran with it. I’m going to gradually build up my mileage and long run distances, but it is by no means close to what I had methodically planned out.

Eight weeks ago, I was all “Sub 4:00 Marathon!” “Two 20 Milers, at the least!” “5-day weeks! I need ‘em!”

Now I’m more, “I love running!” “I just want to finish Philly!” “This feels like last year’s gleeful training!”

So that’s where we’re at.

I’m not trying to break any records at Philly, I just want to finish with a smile on my face. Do I hope that I will beat my time from last year? Sure.  Will I cry if I don’t? Nope. In the time I took off to rehabilitate, running and I became BFFs again instead of frenemies. And it feels like training should feel – fun and rewarding.

Barefoot Running, and the Eye-Opening Watch Debacle

As I mentioned last week, I have made it my goal to lose the plantar fasciitis that has been bugging me for over a year. I got a new pair of minimalist shoes (which are all the rage in the running community) to help me alter my running form. I am a shameful heel striker, and I am on a mission to change that.

I tried out my new (PURPLE) sneakers, and they felt great. I also tried landing on my midfoot on a treadmill, and that felt OK too. But overall, it still felt pretty awkward. I didn’t know where to bend, what to bend, or where to land. As it turns out, changing your running form after years of wearing cushioned sneakers does not happen overnight.

So I decided to do some research. I Googled “Barefoot Running,” and came across a book written by a guy appropriately named “Barefoot Ken Bob.” The book, Barefoot Running Step by Step, chronicles how Ken, who is widely considered as the Guru of barefoot running, came to run 76 marathons (you guessed it) – barefoot. I didn’t actually buy the book, but Amazon's preview gives you quite a bit of pages to read without dipping into your electronic wallet.

Ken’s “Most Important Lesson” in the book to help you run barefoot – bend your knees. It seems so simple. But then I thought about it, and remembered this photo from the Brooklyn Half-Marathon:

My legs are almost completely straight. What happens when your legs are straight? You heel strike. What happens when your legs are bent? You land on the balls of your feet.

When I got home from work, I tried on a pair of Nike Frees that Keith lent me to try out, and went for a bent-knees run. And it worked!

Ken talks about how bending your knees fixes a lot of problems all at once – it makes you land on the balls of your feet (which absorbs the shock, and in turn decreases the chance of injury), and you are automatically set up to run in a forward motion. It was incredible to me how bending my knees naturally made me go faster, and it felt effortless. I was intending to go out for an easy jog since I did a five-mile run yesterday morning, but I ended up clocking in at an 8:33 pace (which is on the quicker side for me).

Barefoot Ken - notice the bent knees.

So what’s next? Well as most running rules go, do everything in moderation. My body isn’t used to this new form, so I’m going to try and ease into it. I want to try out running barefoot on the track by my apartment, and slowly incorporate this new technique into my daily runs. Also, marathon training starts next week (!!!), and I want to be as injury-free as possible. I have noticed, however, that my IT band that is normally a little sore, feels much better this week. A byproduct of the midfoot strike? Perhaps.

**(For more info on barefoot running, check out Ken’s book or his website, barefootrunning.com. I do not claim to be an expert on this stuff, or on anything really, so the above is just what I saw as the key takeaways).

After my first bent-knee run, I plugged my Garmin watch into my computer to upload both my morning and evening runs. While I do love my watch, it has a really hard time reading a charge or connecting to my computer. It takes me about five minutes to figure out how to connect it to anything, and it gives me serious rage that normally only comes from a crowded subway ride. During last night’s fit, my Garmin went completely blank. More rage. Keith and I tried fiddling with it, but nothing happened.

I became slightly dramatic, and was trying to plot out the time it would take for the manufacturer to fix it. JUST as I am about to embark on an 18-week long running voyage, my amazing GPS, pace-keeping watch decides to pucker out. My life is so hard.

At the end of my rant, Keith said very wisely, “You know, people were running before there was technology.” Bam. The birds began to sing, and the stars aligned. I began to think about his comment more, and I realized that I did my entire marathon training last year with my cheap, pink Timex watch. No GPS, no pace updates. Often times, I left it at home. During the actual marathon, I think I only looked at it three times.

In a dramatic statement that I will probably regret later, I have decided to run one day a week without a watch. I will need it for speed work, and I will probably want it on my long runs to see how many more times I need to run over the Williamsburg Bridge to make 18 miles, but I’m going to pick one easy run and forego my beloved technology.

I don’t want to become a slave to my paces or lose sight of why I started running – for fun. I truly loved training last year, and while it was a bit tiring at times, I never lost sight of why I signed up in the first place. I wanted to complete a marathon, and I wanted to enjoy it.

Starting next week, I will begin ramping up my mileage quite a bit, and to avoid becoming burned out, I’m going to check into the mindset that worked for me so well last year. I’m going to train for a marathon, and it’s going to be awesome.

(In case you were worried, I figured out how to turn my watch back on. Google solves everything)

Yet Another (failed) Attempt to Become Pain-Free

Runners love talking about their injuries – plain and simple. We spend so much time by ourselves running, that we notice every ache and pain and can describe these aforementioned injuries with great detail. It’s also possible that runners are a bit self-obsessed.

I try my best not to complain about my injuries too much because a) I am superstitious that  talking about an injury makes it worse b) It is really annoying. But give me this free pass so I can tell you a story. Pull up a chair, get comfortable.

I have been plagued by plantar fasciitis for over a year. Every morning when I wake up, I put my feet on the ground and wince in pain (worsened if I wore heels or really flat shoes the day before). Every evening, they hurt to some degree, sometimes so badly that I put them in an ice cold foot bath just to relieve some of the pain. For some strange reason, they don’t bother me while I run, which I do consider a sincere blessing.

I have gone to physical therapists and a podiatrist, but no one seems to be able to treat it. I ice and stretch my tight calves (which are usually the culprit for my non-fatal disease), but nothing really seems to help.

In the running world, being a heel-striker instead of a mid-foot striker (landing in the middle to ball of the foot as you would if you were running barefoot), is considered blasphemy. So as a pained heel-striker, my spirits were lifted when I read a recent article in Runner’s World. It was about a runner who also suffered from plantar fasciitis for a long time, but when he changed his stride to a mid-foot strike, he claimed that it fixed many of his injuries. Determined not to have my feet hurt forever, I decided to try and fix my stride.

On Tuesday, I bought a pair of Brooks PureFlow Sneakers, which are designed to help guide your feet to land on the midfoot. They felt great when I tried them on, and they are also purple.

PURPLE. Who's excited?

I was psyched to give them a go in celebration of our Nation’s birthday. I woke up earlier than I would have on a day off to beat the heat, laced up my new  kicks, and attempted this whole new stride-thing. Turns out, it’s really hard to change the way you run.

Though it doesn’t happen every time I take a spin around my neighborhood, I can usually reach a place of serenity on my runs. I take in the scenery, enjoy my iPod, and relish in the fact that I really do love to run. I had to be completely conscious of every step I was taking yesterday, and I had no clue whether I was doing it right and whether I looked like a complete fool (the answer to the latter is most likely a “hell yes”).

I was about four and a half miles into my run, and I was finally in somewhat of a groove. The balls of my feet were a little sore, but I thought I was getting the hang of it. I took a final loop of McCarren Park, which I have run many times, and noticed a slightly aggressive bum on the dirt path 50 feet in front of me. So I veered off back to the pavement, tripped, and completely wiped out. I mean a total and complete wipe out – Arms flailing, I skidded over the uneven pavement, scraped up my whole left leg, and got two big gashes on my hands.

I looked around, and was so confused as to what just happened. I was in a bit of pain, and I noticed that I had ripped the insulation sleeve on my brand new water bottle. Instead of being brave and shaking it off, I cried a little, limped back to the sidewalk, and had a pity party (if you're considering having a rumble or an intense game of flag football or something, you definitely want me on your team).

Since I was a half mile from home, covered in dirt from the pavement surrounding a bench that usually houses several homeless people, I mustered up some courage and ran home to wash up (and eventually stopped crying). I would show you a picture of my gashes, but even I don't want to look at them.

In an effort to relieve some pain from my feet, I got new injuries (in addition to my scrapes and bruises, I can barely move my left arm that supported my fall). The silver lining: this morning, the bottom of my feet did not hurt as much as they usually do. End rant on running injuries.

After I licked my wounds, I met up with Keith and Kyle, and we were ready for some 4^th of July festivities. On a whim, we took the subway to Mets Stadium, hoping to watch some baseball and eat hot dogs.

Sweating and waiting for the subway.

We were a bit stressed as we approached the stadium, unsure whether the game was sold out, or if we could even get seats together. I walked up to a security guard at the gates, and asked him which way the box office was.

He pulled out of his pocket, four shiny baseball tickets, free of charge.

WOOHOO!

We were over the moon – we had seats on the first baseline, in the shade, on the 4^th of July. AWESOME.

I also ran into Jillian (yay!) who got tickets with a bunch of her friends, and I was super jealous when I found out she had today and tomorrow off. After all the beer and fried food, I was less than excited to go to work this morning.

Mmm... Nathan's.

However tired, cranky, and hungover I felt this morning, it was totally worth it for the great time we had at the game. I was giddy the whole time, and after my epic fall, felt that my luck had changed its course.